be any more than civil, seeing she put her name in them, just to write and thank her for them. May be she 'd like to know the name of the man that wore them. I thought may be it was some little girl that would be pleased to get a letter from a soldier."
"Why, certainly, Mr. Hale," replied Netty. "I think it would be a very nice thing to write and thank her for them. I dare say it was some little girl who would be proud enough to have a letter from a soldier. What did you say the name was?"
"It 's on the paper," said Joe, languidly. He was growing tired. "Matilda 's the first name. I 've forgotten the last, but she lives in Provincetown."
"Miss Matilda Bennet," said Netty, reading it from the paper.
"Oh, yes," said Joe, "that 's it."
Netty wrote the address on an envelope, and then, taking a sheet of note paper, looked at Joe, inquiringly, and said:—
"Well, what shall I say?"
"Oh, anything you like," was the embarrassing reply, and Joe closed his eyes with an expression of perfect content and assurance that all would be right.
"Why, Mr. Hale," she said, "I 'm afraid I don't know what to say. What do you want said?"
"Oh, just thank her—that 's all," murmured Joe, sleepily. "I guess it 's a little girl. I suppose a grown-up woman would n't have sent her name
